Thursday, October 23, 2014

31 Days of Horror: Freaks

One of us, one of us, gooble, gobble, gooble gobble, we accept her, we accept her! they shout as Cleopatra is accepted as one of the Freaks.

In addition to our
regular programming, every day this month, Last Cinema Standing will be
bringing readers recommendations from the best of the horror genre as we make
our way to Halloween. This should not be treated as a “best of” list but more
as a primer. You can read the full introduction to Last Cinema Standing’s 31
Days of Horror here, and be sure to check back each day for a new suggestion.

Day 23: Freaks (1932)

Director Tod Browning enjoyed a long career in silent films,
then transitioned rather easily into talkies, particularly compared to some of
his contemporaries. In 1931, he helmed probably the most famous film version of
the Dracula story, starring Bela Lugosi in his most iconic performance. The
next year, he made Freaks. Though
Browning lived into his 80s and died in 1962, he made only four more movies
after Freaks, the last coming in
1939.

The film was so shocking and its story so controversial that
Browning could not get work, and the kind of work he could get was not the work
he wanted. So that was it. A brilliant director’s career ended much too soon,
right as he seemed to be hitting his stride, in fact, because the world was not
ready for his peculiar brand of filmmaking.

The irony will not be lost on anyone reading this or seeing
the movie today – that a film about intolerance could be met with such derision
and disgust for having this cavalcade of freaks descend upon the movie houses
of Depression-era audiences. The people who successfully banned the film share
more in common with the villains of the story than with its deformed heroes

Yet time has been kind of Browning’s masterpiece, and viewed
through a modern lens, Freaks stands
as a stirring rebuke to the prevailing prejudices of its time – and of ours. It
could have been anything really, but Browning, a contortionist with the circus
in his youth, had a particular soft spot for the sideshow performers who were
often mistreated when they were not on stage to be mocked.

The director’s familiarity with the world of the story and
his decision to cast actual sideshow performers in all of the key roles add
much-needed reality to a crazy though not unbelievable tale of deceit, hatred,
and misunderstanding. When little person Hans, played by Harry Earles, finds
out he stands to inherit a great deal of money, trapeze artist Cleopatra (Olga
Baclanova) decides to trick him into marrying her. She plans to poison him and
take his money.

She can do this because, to her, Hans is subhuman. Hans’
mistake is not realizing she sees him this way. In the movie’s most famous
scene, referenced as recently as last year in Martin Scorsese’s The Wolf of Wall Street, the sideshow
performers gather for the wedding feast and to accept Cleopatra as one of their
own. Cleopatra is disgusted that they could ever consider her one of them.

Everything is summed up in this scene, which takes place
surprisingly late in the film. The “freaks” want love and will take any that
comes their way, even if their trust is misplaced and misguided. Cleopatra
stands in for us and our own hate and prejudice. It is a rare instance of the
audience seeing through the eyes of the villain. The choice is a stroke of genius
by Browning because if you do not feel dirty by then end of this film, you are
not paying attention.

Tomorrow, we visit a
time when there is no one to trust, villain or ally alike.